


to feel some control (destroy it if i want)

by hexed_vexed



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Content Ending, Helplessness, Hurt Gavin Reed, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Mentions of possible ADHD, Nines just wants the best for Gavin, i guess this qualifies as angst?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-13 14:43:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18471070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hexed_vexed/pseuds/hexed_vexed
Summary: Maybe he had ADHD, but Gavin couldn’t stand that ‘self-diagnosis’ bullshit.(Possible warning if you are upset by themes such as these.)





	to feel some control (destroy it if i want)

**Author's Note:**

> honestly this is just a fat vent. the last thing i want to do is assume what it is like for people with adhd (most of this is just based on my feeling, but i hate self diagnosing myself or stuff like that), so i'm deeply sorry if this is terribly inaccurate or upsetting.

Gavin clawed weakly, not entirely sure if he was actually scratching at something, but feeling the pressure underneath his fingers. A muffled noise reached his ears, the sound soft and considerate. He heard a whine escape his lips as he burrowed farther into the warmth his body desperately called for. 

He felt himself slip out of consciousness, or whatever consciousness he had left. Even as he faded, the bone-deep exhaustion stuck to his body, weighing him down with each breath. 

 

Feeling returned to Gavin’s hands; the skin buzzing with the need to move. Pull, flex, scratch. He found himself pulling at something thin and not quite soft, but not rough either. Not fluffy, but not stiff. He couldn’t find the word. It was fabric, he supposed, his eyelids hanging heavy.

He flexed his fingers around it carefully and had come across a smooth peice on the fabric. Smooth and circular, with deliberate bumps in the middle. A button, Gavin’s mind eventually supplied. He scratched at it, relieving some of the tension that pulsed through his hand.

_Pull, flex, scratch._

Pressure - the gentlest of pressure - was suddenly present on his skin. His ear, he decided, where he felt soft vibrations ripple from the pressure. Similar to talking, he felt, but there were no words he could hear to accompany it. 

 

He tapped and scratched and flexed. Tapped over and over on the back of his palm, but it wasn’t enough. He began push harder and tap faster, needing to feel the movement. The pain and discomfort. He wanted a reaction from himself.

_Move, move, move, move-_

“Gavin, stop.” The pressure on his skin was back, accompanied by the vibrations of speech. 

But the message didn’t register - or maybe it did, but his mind blocked it out - and Gavin felt as though he was crawling his way out of his throat. Scratching harder into his skin, but not getting the reaction. He wasn’t feeling. 

“Gavin, please.” The vibrations were weaker, but the speech was stronger. The voice sharper to his ears. In a lagged response, the movement stopped.

He felt pent up energy that he wanted to get rid of bouncing around his body. He wanted to feel the release of strain, allowing peace to flood through his system. A spark of fear ignited inside of his stomach as if he was going to explode. 

But he didn’t.

His body relaxed, he was relieved again. The need was no longer controlling his hands and mind and body. He inhaled slowly and exhaled just as carefully. 

He felt like he was being constricted then, by arms or wire or metal - he didn’t know. He understood the action was meant to be comforting, but he couldnt swallow the feeling that he was being suffocated. All Gavin knew was he couldn’t stay stuck, he ~~wanted~~ needed to feel. He pushed a noise out from the back of his throat and the constricting stopped, quickly retreating. 

The space felt almost overwhelming, but it was preferable to the crushing of arms or wire or metal. He felt himself slipping again, recognizing the spinning feeling, and gave up on stalling it. 

 

Gavin woke what felt like an eternity later, springing up from his position as if being shaken from a nightmare. Sunlight had bathed the gray sheets that were spread across his bed, illuminating the room with its morning glow. 

The detective looked beside him, feeling the dip in the mattress as he shifted. Nines was in statis, chest rising and falling - something his system had begun doing since they started sharing a bed. A way to seem more human, Gavin supposed.

The android was dressed in a baggy shirt, a red and black flannel wrapped around his frame. Tan and white marbled buttons littered the fabric, gray stitching keeping each peice in place.

Upon closer inspection, Gavin saw light scratch marks just below Nines’ collarbone. A frown tugged on the human’s lips, his face falling. He’d done that, in his sleep. Gavin felt a wave of shame wash over him as he looked on at his partner and the marks on his skin, all mocking him with their irritated red color. 

“Good morning, Gav.” The android’s eyes had fluttered open, a steel gaze looking on at the human curiously. 

“Morning,” the other said curtly.

Nines hummed in distaste at the response. “Are you upset by what you did while you were asleep?”

”No,” Gavin replied, a lie the android didn’t need to read his heart rate and blood pressure for.

”Come on,” Nines coaxed, sitting up and scooting himself towards Gavin’s frame, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Nines wrapped his arms around the other’s stomach and placed his head on Gavin’s shoulder. He felt the detective’s posture relax and heard him sigh heavily. 

“You get anxious in your sleep, and it’s okay. Believe it or not, but acting human is no crime.” Gavin snorted at that and Nines’ mouth twitched upward a degree. 

 

Gavin had been experiencing less and less restlessness - the term Nines had carefully settled on - during his sleep in the last few months, but every so often the stress and lack of sleep would catch up to him. Nines wouldn’t categorize it as panic, more so an outlet that Gavin didn’t have when he was conscious. 

They had spoken about it was few times before, and each conversation almost always ended because Gavin had felt too uncomfortable to continue. Nines never pushed it, knowing it was a touchy topic.

His boyfriend was against seeing a therapist or professional, but even more upset by the idea of ‘self-diagnosis’ from an online test or anything of that nature. Nines had proposed it once, a short test that he hoped would give Gavin a sense of closure. Though the results were most likely not entirely accurate, Nines didn’t have much else to offer. 

But the human had declined, turning his nose to up to the idea. 

“If I wanted to know if I had ADHD, I would’ve talked to someone already,” Gavin had said, “n’ not some online test bullshit.”

He managed it well, all things considered. It was only on rare occasions that he lost his sense of control, and Nines had been there in most (if not all) instances. But it was a closed case. Something Gavin had come to accept, so Nines accepted it as well.

It was something the android almost admired in his partner. His constant tapping to a tune that had been rattling around his brain. The flow that the human had acquired from his gitteriness was something Nines noticed after they had just started working together.

He labeled it as another interesting aspect of Gavin Reed. Another reason why he loved the man so much.  

**Author's Note:**

> published my first reed900, good on me (i have about 15 unfinished drafts, so it’s a miracle i’m actually publishing). 
> 
> comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.


End file.
